Boys of Faerie
by lost.to.literature
Summary: T. Short Story. A more in-depth reimagining of Mark and Kieran and Cristina's relationship in LORD OF SHADOWS.**very slight spoilers for Lord of Shadows** m/m & m/m/f - Mark Blackthorn, Kieran of the Hunt, Cristina, Shadowhunters fanfiction, Hot Faerie threesome -Emma's words in LoS not mine haha, faerie smut, hot faerie boys, fey, fae, Lord of Shadows fanfiction
1. Chapter 1

_***very slight Lord of Shadows spoilers***_

 _AN: Takes place within Chapter 13 Dreamland. And a hullo there to my old fans! Has it truly been around a year? Come find me IG (see profile)_

Cristina awoke suddenly. Her eyes flashing open to an unfamiliar place. Then quickly fluttering shut again as realization came to her. She was in the Seelie Court. Safe. Well, safer than before, safer than being hunted in the Unseelie Lands. Safe and rested. Clean, freshly bathed and clothed in a swath of ivory fabric, a Seelie nightgown perhaps. And in the room Nene had placed her and Mark and Kieran.

 _Kieran_. She thought with alarm. He was injured, she had been left in charge of his care. She was supposed to be minding his injury every two hours by Nene's instruction. She had done so once in the calm of the night. She recalled the way her eyes had lingered on Kieran a moment too long, a moment in which Cristina saw him differently for the first time. Could almost admit…

Cristina made to turn over in bed to where Kieran had been asleep beside her. Where she had believed him to still be. But she sensed that he was no longer there.

And.

It was quiet. Still. But for a faint rustle of fabric, a sigh. Cristina froze. Her pulse quickening in response as her mind flickered through a cacophony of instances.

She was about to sit up to tell Mark, who had been sleeping on the floor at her beside, that Kieran was missing.

But.

Another sigh. And then the slightest of a whisper. Cristina's eyes widened in the darkened room as she lay still on her side. She had fallen asleep with her back to Kieran, and Mark below her in a bundle of blankets on the floor, just like she'd seen him do in Emma's room.

The whispers continued. Two voices. Unmistakably Mark and Kieran, speaking in a language Cristina did not know. No... _Faerie_. They were speaking Faerie to each other. Cristina had studied enough, with studies of Faerie being a guilty pleasure even, to recognize the lilt and even a word here and there.

They were quiet, so quiet. Cristina could barely hear them yet they were right beside her. She pretended to sleep. But her heart was now thundering in her chest. Her curiosity pulling at her, pestering her to look. Just to see…

She fought with herself for a minute or so more. But the quiet, quiet rustling and whispering and sighing continued.

Cristina bit at her lower lip, blinking into the darkness until her eyes began to adjust.

The room was just ever so illuminated by the faint glow from within the stone of the walls. She glanced at the foot of the bed to where just beyond at the far wall, a small fountain of water trickled serenely into a pool of water built into the stone floors.

A bathing pool. Where She, Mark and Kieran had each taken a turn in earlier, before Nene had given Kieran a sleeping draught. The waters had been soothingly warm and seemed to glow an ethereal blue-white like the light of a star. The sound of the trickling waters had lulled Cristina to sleep not long ago and did well to provide a quiet calm, and offer privacy from the echo of voices. Sounds like those that were coming from beside her now.

Finally, trying not to move, Cristina peered over the edge of the bed. And she watched not in a stunned horror but with an odd fascination, two boys, two Faerie boys in an intimate embrace beneath Mark's blanket. Cristina could see Kieran's dark hair, his head bent into Mark's neck. They were nestled together on their sides, Kieran behind Mark, his arm wrapped over Mark's exposed chest and hand disappearing into the waistband of his linen trousers.

They shifted. A near silent maneuver until Mark hovered atop Kieran, his pale skin gleaming slightly off his bare back as the blanket slipped down to his waist. This time a low groan escaped one of them. Kieran, thought Cristina, as Kieran's hands slid up from Mark's arms and entwined long fingers into pale hair. Their lips met. Again and again. Fierce, hungry. A clash of passion, hurt and anger and pleasure.

Cristina's fascination, an intrigue of beholding not only seeing two people in such an intimate way but watching two boys...It was...beautiful, she thought, but for a moment her fascination waned and jealousy pulsed through her. Images of herself and Mark in the copse of trees during the revel played through her mind. And she felt a pang of hurt, of embarrassment. Mark had just been tasting of her lips only just hours before and now...

Another tiny gasp sought the return of her attention and this time her pulse intensified but down below her belly. And along with it a heat that spread through her as she braved another peek.

Mark and Kieran's hands were intertwined, a lover's embrace. And they no longer seemed to be able to quiet themselves. Although they remained nearly utterly soundless but in this proximity little was left to Cristina's imagination and she bit hard into her lip and writhed slightly beneath her own sheets as Mark and Kieran moved against each other, a rhythm falling into place.

Mark leaned in and caught Kieran's mouth as he rocked against him, caught up a moan that rumbled deep in Kieran's throat hushing him just enough. Just enough for anyone else but Cristina.

Cristina realised she was breathing heavily, nearly panting and squeezing her thighs together looking for a bit of friction to release that pulsing there. She wanted Mark to touch her again, touch her like he touched Kieran. Look at her the way he looked at the Unseelie Prince. And too, she dared herself to think, she thought she might like the feel of Kieran's hands on her. That hot searing touch still burned from when he had clasped her wrist earlier and their eyes had locked in the dark. Locked and connected with an unspoken intrigue, if but for a fleeting moment.

 _By the Angel_ , she thought soberly, _I shouldn't be._..what _was_ she doing? She thought in exasperation. She was mortified suddenly. Of everything but mostly of herself. For...spying on something that should be so private. It wasn't right for her to have secretly witnessed what should be Mark and Kieran's private moments together.

Frozen in horror, suddenly feeling extremely awkward and completely obvious, Cristina desperately wanted to run from the room. She couldn't believe herself. And she didn't want to admit...she was afraid to admit...was it wrong of her that she... _enjoyed_ it?

Cristina warred with her conscience, her eyes squeezed shut in her pathetic feign of slumber. Ignoring now, as best as she could any and all happenings beside her on the floor.

But it had gone quiet once again.

Mark and Kieran lay in each other's arms, still, the blanket now pulled up to their shoulders. Finally Cristina allowed herself to move, shifting to her other side and pulling her own blanket high onto her shoulder. But she couldn't sleep.

Of all Cristina had witnessed, what she did not see was Kieran as he smiled defiantly at Cristina's turned back.

 _To be continued….._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _AN/disclaimer: Please note there will several similarities in the next two chapters to the actual work of Cassandra Clare but reimagined in my own words. I am referencing chapters 17 and 21 of "Lord of Shadows". Cassandra Clare is my favourite author, I would never deliberately plagiarize her work. All characters belong to Cassandra Clare._

Kieran regarded Cristina for a long moment, in that faerie way. Long enough that Cristina had to fight against the awkwardness and school herself to remain still. They were both standing in the infirmary of the London Institute. It had only been two days since they had left the Seelie Lands and had been reunited with the rest of the Blackthorns, here in London, which had been a surprising turn of events. Cristina had done her best to try and continue on as if that night hadn't happened. As if those feelings hadn't happened, out of shame.

Kieran's gaze was calculating. Intense. And it had been two days since she had looked at him. Really looked at him. And she quickly found that in doing so the images that bubbled up in her mind made her blush. The memories. Memories of that night in the Seelie Court. In a darkened faerie room where she lay pretending to sleep while…

And now she and Kieran were alone in the infirmary. Kieran was examining Cristina's wrist, her wound from the binding spell. She hoped that since Kieran was faerie he would know how to fix it. Finally Kieran let Cristina's hand slip softly from his and took a half step back. "I believe it is," he began quietly, eyes locked with Cristina's, "that we both hold the same heart within our own." He tilted his head to the side. Cristina watched as dark and shiny wisps of hair fell across his brow. Her eyes skimming over his fine features. Features that reminded her of Mark. That look of faeries. High cheekbones, a seductive slant of the eyes, the otherworldly point to the ears…

Kieran's voice, a raspy lilt of a faerie accent, interrupted her reverie. "You have intrigued me Lady of the roses, Mark's _princess._.."

Cristina made to interject but one corner of Kieran's mouth curved into a crooked smile, his eyes danced with an amusement she didn't understand. Cristina thought of the way he and Mark had just kissed, in front of her, less than merely a half hour ago. The way Mark had pressed into Kieran so fiercely his head tipped back, how Mark had sucked at Kieran's lip and that tiny gasp…

He closed the gap between them. Standing close. Too close. Closer than he'd ever been to her before. Cristina stiffened awkwardly. Kieran reached out, long fingers sliding down her bare shoulder. She had almost forgotten that she had been stripped down to her camisole when they had reached the infirmary, her shirt having been soaked with blood from the faerie wound on her wrist, the binding spell on her and Mark from the revel in Faerie. "Kieran..." she began in protest, forcing a step back.

"My time in the Unseelie Lands was short...and then I was imposed upon the Wild Hunt. Even for a prince who could have anything, everything...a woman I have never had..."

"Kieran, what are you saying?" Cristina asked incredulously, her eyes quickly scanned the large and echoey room, reassuring that they were still alone.

"' _Saying_?'" He mused, the term unfamiliar. "I would that I might like to share my Mark. _With_ you." He held her gaze intensely.

 _Share Mark?_ Cristina echoed to herself. _Like every other weekend and alternating holidays? Like a child whose parents had split up?_ Her mind becoming a jumble of thoughts. But then she recalled his peculiar emphasis on the word _with._ And what he said about never having been with a woman...

She looked up at Kieran, he had been watching her. Watching her as she regarded his words, his _offer._ " _With_ me?" She asked. Kieran smiled, a sly, predatory like smile. And then they both nearly jumped as a loud crack reverberated through the old victorian building. The distinct sound of a portal being opened. And Mark banged through the infirmary doors.

Cristina subconsciously stepped back from Kieran. A move that was inadvertently suspicious, she realized, by the look that flashed in Mark's eyes as he appraised them. _Was she guilty of something?_ Perhaps in her thoughts if not her actions. And she sensed that Mark felt something too.

"Magnus and Alec just portaled in. Livvy, Ty and Kit had got into some trouble in the Shadow Market." Mark said his voice was rough from running through the institute to find Cristina, who he had expected would still be alone as he had left her when he went to find Kieran not long ago. "And Livvy...she's been hurt."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It turned out to have been an exhausting night. Magnus had Livvy stabilized. The demon poisoning from the attack now removed from her wound and Ty had given her a blood replacement rune after Magnus had okay _runeing_. She had lost a lot of blood. Ty's pallor was almost equal to his twin's in his fear of possibly losing her. And she was now asleep in her room. Ty at her side, refusing to leave.

Two days later and it was well after midnight but Cristina couldn't sleep. Again. She had avoided Mark as best as she could after what had happened in his room the night Livvy had been injured. Mark had asked her stay with him that night. She had seen the need in his eyes. But she knew that if she stayed, if they had shared a bed...she knew what would happen. Because she was fighting to restrain herself. And she felt guilty because she could not think of Mark now, without too, thinking of Kieran. And so she had left Mark abruptly. And had dashed out of his room and kept her distance since.

And that was why she had been unable to sleep again tonight. And why she had wandered aimlessly through the old Victorian institute until she had come to a large room with an impossibly high ceiling. There were crisp white sheets draped over the sparse amount of furniture. And the moon shone brightly through the many windows. Arched windows that rose from nearly floor to ceiling, slightly warped in that way that the leaded glass of old, old homes look and they looked out into a garden that appeared in silvery shadows by the light from the moon.

Mark couldn't sleep either. He had woken up to a throbbing pain in his wrist. _Cristina_. He thought immediately with worry. He shoved into his pants and shoes, slipping a soft cotton T-shirt over his head as he left his room. But just as he thought Cristina's room was empty. It hadn't even looked like she'd been in there at all, Mark noticed, as he scanned her room and saw that her bed was still impeccably made. He used the waxing and waning pain of the binding spell to find her. Kind of like a game he used to play with his siblings before the Dark War, the Wild Hunt. Hot or cold- that's what they called the game.

Mark found Cristina in a dimly lit room. A large open room. And she was standing in the moonlight that poured in from the bare windows. She was wearing a thin black dress. First a feeling of relief had washed over him. And then something else stirred in him. His eyes trailed her thick, dark hair flowing loosely down her back and ending at the curve of her waist. He came up behind her and she spun around and breathed his name in a whisper, "Mark. I felt you coming." She glanced down at her wrist, "As the pain subsided, I knew you were close." She stepped away from him then and slowly turned in a circle as she looked at the intricate Edwardian details of the room. Her eyes sparkled in awe. "I've always wanted to see the ballroom here at the London Institute. My mother had told me about it, how beautiful it once was. Before the Dark War…"

Mark finally looked at the room himself as if he just realized he was standing in a real ballroom. He glanced back at Cristina who was now frowning at the state of the room. At what could be, but couldn't because not only because of the old threats but the new ones as well. The wars and the stresses of being a Shadowhunter. Mark reached a hand to Cristina with a slight bow, when he looked up at her he grinned, "Shall we?"

Cristina gave a laugh, "Shall we _what_?" She asked. But her eyes shone with excitement. "Dance." Mark replied simply. Cristina laughed again and shook her head, "But Mark, there's no music!"

"Does there have to be?"

"Perhaps in Faerie. But here, we have this."Cristina smiled mischievously as she retrieved her phone and quickly swiped over the screen until music poured out it.

Cristina danced with Mark. His hands hot on her waist and her fingers laced at the nape of his neck. She thought of the revel. And the way they had kissed so freely. And she gasped when Mark leaned in and kissed her now. She let herself get lost in his kiss, in the moment. Let herself forget all the stress, forget Malcolm and the Centurions and the death of Author and…

Mark's kiss grew intense. His hands struggled to control their roaming. Cristina could feel had badly he wanted her, wanted this. But she sensed a shift in the room, a presence. She began to pull away. "Cristina…" Mark was afraid that he had offended Cristina but when he looked at her she was staring at something over his shoulder. He turned slowly to find Kieran slouched against the door frame. His expression was emotionless. And Mark then feared how much Kieran had seen. But he couldn't tell if Kieran was upset when Kieran pushed off from the wall and sauntered straight over to Cristina. He Bowed as Mark had and extended his hand, "My lady, a dance if you will."

Cristina had kissed Mark. And then danced with Kieran. And she had enjoyed it. Enjoyed the attention from both boys that night in the ballroom. She swallowed in the odd silence that had followed. After Kieran had spun her around and around so elegantly, so enchantingly. And had released her and locked eyes with Mark.

Cristina felt a bit like the odd person in the middle with Mark at her back partway across the room and Kieran still in front of her. The tension in the air increased immensely as Mark and Kieran exchanged what seemed to be a silent conversation between them.

Finally Kieran moved, gliding almost gracefully in that way of faerie. He closed the short distance between Cristina and himself reaching out toward her. Before Cristina could react he swept a long swoop of her dark satiny hair aside, bent down and kissed her cheek.

Cristina stumbled a step back. And Kieran advanced one more. His hand now clasping her shoulder. Cristina then purposely retreated back again. Kieran's eyes began to glitter excitedly. _He likes games_ , Cristina thought, _how faerie of him_. Cristina bumped into a solid and warm form. _Mark_.

Kieran had backed Cristina into Mark. And Mark's hands captured her waist with a delicate almost unsure touch as they collided. But before Cristina could register what was happening, before she could slide out from between these two strange faerie boys, Kieran had leaned over Cristina's shoulder and pressed his mouth against Mark's.

She felt Mark's hands tighten on her waist. His thumbs digging in and smoothing over the soft curve there. Her heart began to race. _What is happening what is happening what is happening._ There was a gasp as Kieran pulled away abruptly. _Quickly_. It was all happening so quickly.

Kieran was staring down at Cristina with a hunger now. His eyes lingering over her lips. _I should go I should go._ Cristina urged herself. But she didn't. She let Kieran kiss her. Again. She wanted to taste Mark on his lips. Wanted to taste the wild hunt in them both. That unbidden freedom. _But what did Mark think?_

Kieran kissed her _hard_. Eagerly. She felt his tongue tease over the tip of hers. And he tasted like the night sky after the rain. A raging storm. And icy winds. She kissed him back. Pressing against him as he had done to her, letting her tongue slip over his. She couldn't help the small quiet, quiet moan she felt in her throat. Guiltily, she thought of Mark again and she made to push away.

But Kieran's hands, his fingers long and warm, roamed down her shoulders and to her waist where they bumped into Mark's. He pulled Mark's hands from Cristina's waist and interlaced them as he broke away from the kiss.

 _What is happening what is happening what is happening?_ Cristina's heart was pounding in her ears so violently now, she felt she couldn't hear anything but her own shock. The shock of her behavior. Of Kieran's. And of Mark's.

She ducked out of the cage of the boys' arms and backed away with her hand at her throat, clutching the pendant of her necklace. "I-I...I'm sorry." She muttered pathetically as she turned and dashed away.

"Cristina wait!" It was Mark. He called after her, dropping Kieran's hand discardedly, as he tried to catch her before the doors of the ballroom banged shut. But Kieran caught Mark's arm, "Let her be." He whispered. Mark stared at Kieran a long moment. Considering. He didn't have all too much experience with girls. Or women. Neither did Kieran. But perhaps Kieran was right. "She needs time." Kieran added releasing his grip on Mark's arm after he felt Mark relax, heeding his advice.

 _To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 _Hot faerie threesome?_ Cristina mused incredulously, that's what Emma had said earlier, when Cristina had confided in her friend. She felt so relieved when Emma and Julian had finally returned and she and Emma had a chance for some much needed girl time. Emma was teasing really. When she had said that, making light of Cristina's obvious distress. Her _boy-trouble._ But was that really something she wanted?

 _If it makes you happy, Cristina_... Emma's words echoed in Cristina's mind. It was near dark outside, not long after dinner, the sky outside her bedroom window was just beginning to dim. Cristina exhaled heavily and flopped onto her back from her side and stared up at the ceiling above her bed. She felt so confused. Utterly and helplessly confused.

She liked Mark. Maybe even a lot. Maybe even _more_ than a lot. But...there was Kieran.

Kieran was almost a part of Mark. Like they were a pair. They belonged together. It wouldn't be right of her to come between them. But she knew Mark liked her too. Didn't he? She thought then, with a confused anguish, of Kieran's recent behavior toward her. The kiss. Was he only doing that to humor Mark?

Cristina wanted a relationship, a heart not just... _whatever_ this all was. She sighed heavily again into the darkness of her room. She still didn't know what this all was. She still felt confused and lost and strange.

It was starting to bother her. These feelings. The constant wondering. And she felt a sense of loneliness. Ever since Diego's deception which turned out to be a miscommunication then turned back into a deception but with Zara. She missed the intimacy of a relationship. Her heart gave a dull ache at the loss of it. Then She chastised herself for her selfish thoughts. Especially in the middle of another war. She was a Shadowhunter. She was important, valued. A trained lethal warrior. Blessed by the Angel. A caretaker against the plague of demons. She had more important things to dwell on than confusing faerie boys. She shut her eyes tightly as if forcing away her feelings. And waited for sleep to come.

Sleep did not come, yet again.

Cristina crept up the narrow steps and paused before the door. She reached to knock but her heart was beating so fast the rush of adrenaline caused her stomach to twist in knots. She had spent almost the entirety of the evening working up the nerve to come here, she even paced around her room like a caged animal, like a tiger she had seen at one of those mundane Zoo's once, a beast with a wild heart that deserved its freedom, not a life of captivity.

Cristina had finally tossed all her fears aside and decided to just stop all her incessant thinking. Stop thinking about her mother and what she'd think of her. Stop caring about what anyone would think of her. But Cristina couldn't help it, the thinking. The second guessing. The guilt. It was in her nature.

 _The good girl._

Cristina has always been the _good girl_. She has always strived to make her family proud of her. She shuddered at the thought of feeling shameful. Of having to hide in shame. She peered at herself in the mirror above the antique vanity of the room she was staying in at the London Institute. She didn't see a blush of shame on her cheeks or terrible secret in her eyes. She thought then of the new war. The new threat. Mannon's Seven. The Centurions, Arthur, Malcolm. All the hardships that had occurred, everything that had brought her up to this very moment. This brink. How she teetered on this brink…. Tomorrow they were all to be in Indris, and to appear in front of the council. Tomorrow would be yet another trial of hardship.

That's when Cristina huffed out a breath at her somber reflection. When she fell over that obnoxious brink that she had been struggling on for too long. She flung open her door shutting it behind her immediately, symbolically crossing that threshold and closing the door on who she used to be.

And now she was standing outside of Kieran's door. Her fist poised in the air and her heart hammering against her chest. Her nerve waning. She lowered her arm to her side and stared down at her feet. She could hear voices inside. Mark and Kieran, talking in hushed voices. She couldn't make out any words and then quickly realized it was because they were speaking faerie to each other. She smiled to herself, she loved it when they spoke their native tongue to each other. It was so intimate. Although she felt a twinge of jealousy.

Finally she reached up and knocked. Her hand trembled and she took a deep slow breath. There was a shuffling, bare feet against the wooden floors, and then the door creaked open. Mark stood there. He was smiling. Not even a flash of concern in his eyes. He looked as if he had been expecting her. Cristina instinctively swiped her hand over her wrist, but Magnus had reversed the binding spell, Mark couldn't have felt her presence.

"I thought it might be you." Mark said without arrogance. His eyes shone kindly in the witchlight-lit halls. He stepped aside swinging the door wide. For a moment, Cristina felt annoyance. What did he mean he thought it might be her? Did she appear desperate? She recoiled internally, the hurt of Diego's betrayal stinging at her guarded heart. When had she become so defensive?

"You did?"

"Yes. Well, Emma had mentioned that you were looking for me after dinner and we hadn't talked since Magnus's potion…." Mark paused as Kieran came up behind him, they were nearly the same height. And build. Both long and lean, sinewy. But Mark with light hair and eyes and Kieran dark. Silver and blackthorn blue, and silver and black, Cristina mused as she looked between both boys in front of her. Both beautiful in a similar yet unique way.

"Why Mark, this is no way to treat a lady," Kieran gestured widely at his room, "Do please come in, _Cristina_." he gave a slight bow and the way her name rolled so fluidly off his tongue, in that accent, ignited something deep down inside Cristina. She found herself frozen in a stare for half a second. Then she glanced behind her once into the darkened hall. She didn't know why. It was as if she was expecting to be caught. Caught by a ghost of herself, her conscience maybe. And she stepped into Kieran's room quickly before it found her again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Kieran closed the door with a loud click and finally Cristina exhaled. The boys stood somewhat awkwardly to the side as Cristina entered the room glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Kieran had been put into a strange room. It was down a long hall away from the other rooms and up a small flight of stairs as well. It looked a bit like an attic space with two high pitches in the ceiling and walls of slatted boards. No Edwardian wallpaper or tapestries as the rest of the house had. To the left was a balconet with arched glass doors. They were open and a cool breeze flowed steadily over Cristina's bare arms, it tousled loose pieces of her hair.

She was wearing another old-fashioned dress, one of the many items of clothes that Bridget had dug out for all of them when they had arrived straight from the L.A. Institute. It was a soft gray and Cristina knew she wasn't wearing it correctly to the time period. But there was no way she was going to wear a _petticoat_ and all that other old-fashioned nonsense that people used to wear. So it was more of a shift, more like a light sundress without all the underthings that would have gone with it.

She turned back to the boys. Mark was wearing his own clothes that he had came here in, although they had been freshly laundered, a white T-shirt and slim faded jeans. Her eyes lingered over the points of his ears that poked through the blonde waves of his hair. She met his eyes and swallowed.

Kieran cleared his throat matter-of-factly, he was now leaning against one of the posts of his double bed that took up most of the right side of the room. His arms were crossed over his bare chest and thin, tapered drawstring pants hung low on his narrow hips. Cristina quickly looked away. "So...your wrist?" She asked Mark, bringing her own up in front of her and studying it.

"Perfectly normal, aside from the slight marking…" Mark replied, looking down at the wide reddened band encircling his wrist. He crossed the room and gently took Cristina's slender forearm in his hands, turning her wrist this way and that. " _Perfect…_ " He whispered, but his eyes were locked on Cristina's face. She shuddered.

"You must be _cold_." Kieran said pointedly with his eyes narrowed at Mark. His skin felt hot as he brushed past Cristina. And he crossed the room in three swift strides, clasping his hands on the double glass doors, he closed and latched them.

"What is that?" Cristina asked, breaking the increasingly awkward silence. She peered over one of the lounge chairs at what looked to be a mess of even-lengthed twigs and waxy, thick green leaves. A small tan, leather pouch caught her eye. It lay on its side with what looked like an array of semi-precious stones spilling out onto the hardwood floor. Blue, and smoky crystal, black, deep red and pale green cut and polished stones, glinted off the dim witchlight.

Kieran smiled mischievously. Mark replied as he came to stand opposite of Cristina, "It's a faerie game. You play under a full moon, _literally_ , but it was raining and...well...I- _we_ could teach you sometime…" _A faerie game._ Alarms of warning went off in Cristina's head. She knew now more than ever to not play any faerie games. And by the look that now darkened Kieran's face she knew it wasn't an innocent game.

"We can teach you now." Kieran mused, he locked eyes with Mark challengingly before facing Cristina, "Want to play?" Cristina flicked her eyes over to Mark, she tried to read him but he appeared indifferent, it was the faerie in him. Cristina had noticed that his faerie side always seemed to come alight when he was with Kieran.

Cristina took a half step back. Closer to the door. She suddenly felt out of place. Sort of like the way she felt in Faerie. Out of place like a Shadowhunter _is_ in Faerie. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I, well I just wanted to check on you, Mark. See how your wrist was healing up." She nodded as if deciding then that was the real reason she had come here tonight and nothing more. She backed up toward the door again and began to turn.

"Just one game?" It was Mark, who asked. Cristina turned fully toward him in surprise. He smiled. A full grin that lit his eyes, "Just...don't make any promises you cannot or do not wish to fulfill. Of course."

"Of course." Cristina heard herself reply.

"That was your first promise." Kieran said, he crouched down toward the small circle of faerie items strewn on the floor. He met her eyes, a wicked silver and black that shone with delight, "Your draw, _Cristina_."

A fluttering danced nervously in Cristina's stomach, setting her on a serious edge. She came around the lounge chair she had been standing behind and lowered herself onto the floor. Mark followed. They had inadvertently formed a triangle. With Kieran's back to the balconet, Mark's to the unlit fireplace and her's to the door. "Okay then. I suppose I should've known better." Cristina admitted with an airy laugh, she glanced between the boys, "What do I do?"

One corner of Kieran's mouth curved upward as he reached forward and gathered up the short sticks in his hand. His face blanked for a half second and then he lunged across the circle at Cristina, before she could react she felt his fingers in her hair and a sharp sting, she rubbed at her scalp and scowled at Kieran, "By the Angel! What…?"

Kieran sat back down with one long dark strand of Cristina's hair pinched between two fingers, he quickly began to wind it around one of the sticks. Then he set three of them in the middle of the floor between them. Cristina could see that the other two were wound with what looked like a golden piece of Mark's hair and dark blue, nearly black strand of Kieran's. More alarms went off in Cristina's head.

"The twigs represent your body. The leaves, your mind. The gemstones," Kieran paused reaching for the satchel, he poured the contents into his palm and began picking them up one by one, "Quartz," he began, lifting an opaque smoky white stone up between his thumb and forefinger for Cristina to see, "is for a memory. Garnet, a desire. Obsidian, a loss, Topaz, a dream. Jade, a greed."

Kieran replaced all the gemstones back into the pouch and pulled the drawstrings tight. He tossed it to Mark who caught it and gave it shake. Cristina continued to watch as Kieran then gathered up the sticks and the large thick leaves. "Unfortunately for you, due to the inclement weather, the game will be much less... _enchanting._ Mark spoke correctly when he told you that the game is meant to be played beneath a full moon. _But,"_ Kieran paused for effect, he smiled at Cristina and then thrust his hands into the air in front of him, releasing the sticks and leaves. Cristina gasped when they seemed to have been caught on a phantom wind and swirled in the air like a cyclone. "Three rotations and then pass your hand through the middle to break the enchantment. Whichever lands closest to you is your draw."

Cristina's eyes were wide as she watched this tiny cyclone of sticks and leaves. She quickly found her own hair-wrapped twig and counted one as it made a full rotation. " _Pixie Dust_?" She blurted with a laugh to Mark. She immediately regretted it but then Mark threw his back and laughed. He laughed hard like she had never heard him before. His arm crossed over his stomach like a crutch from the strain of it. And Cristina couldn't help herself and laughed too. A warmth spread in her chest. Seeing Mark so unrestrained and free, _happy._ Freed from the Wild Hunt, back with his family and also with Kieran.

 _Mark deserves this_ , she thought. She recalled the thin and haunted looking boy she had first met not long ago, when Mark had first been returned to his family. He was broken and had been through so much pain and mental tortures. And now as she looked at him she still saw that boy, but this was who he really was, who he deserved to be. Free. Happy.

They both stopped laughing and looked at Kieran who had his head tilted to the side but otherwise showed no emotion. Cristina knew he wouldn't understand the joke. So she wasn't surprised by his non reaction. "That's three" Was all he said. And Cristina mechanically slashed her arm through the whirling debris.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A wide bright green leaf landed nearly in Cristina's lap. She picked it up and immediately glanced at Kieran. "Mind." He said simply. Then he gestured to the pouch and said, "Choose one. Without looking."

Tentatively Cristina loosened the string of the satchel and dug her fingers in, clasping onto the first cool stone she touched and drew it out. Kieran smiled that little half grin of his. There was a gleam in his eye that made Cristina nervous. She looked to Mark for reassurance but his eyes were on Kieran, in an almost calculating way. _What have I gotten myself into?_ She worried at the inside of her cheek. And withdrew a deep red stone. _Garnet, a desire._

Cristina placed the leaf and the garnet gemstone into Kieran's awaiting hand as she and Mark watched quietly, Cristina with a nervous curiosity and Mark with a slightly bored amusement, while Kieran unwound from the stick that held Cristina's hair. He placed all three sticks on top of the leaf along with the garnet and bound them all together with the same strand of Cristina's hair.

Cristina felt her stomach drop. She gave a panicked look to Mark. _No binding!_ Her eyes seemed to say. But Mark leaned forward and whispered, "It's only a game." Finally Kieran looked up, "I'm only asking because you're not a faerie, are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

But Kieran only shrugged, "That is up to you, Cristina." He replied. And then, with the little bundle cupped in his large hands he lifted it to his mouth and blew.

0 0 0

Cristina was kissing Mark. Her fingers were tangled into his pale hair and his hands were tightened on her waist. He took a step, urging her back until the backs of her knees met with the edge of a bed. Her hands moved almost frantically down to the hem of Mark's shirt, drawing it up until he broke away and slipped it up over his head. Cristina pulled Mark down on top of her onto the bed. She wasn't even surprised at herself for being so bold. And she didn't protest when Mark's hand trailed down below her waist. His fingers smoothed across her hip bones over the thin material of her dress and then dipped lower. She pressed up to meet him and moaned quietly at the contact.

A shadow appeared over Mark's shoulder. Kieran. "Cristina, tell me what you want." Mark pleaded in her ear. He looked back at Kieran and then back to her. Cristina nodded. She heard Mark whisper something to Kieran in faerie. And then he shifted to the side, off of Cristina but he leaned forward again and touched his lips to hers. She didn't care what was happening because she was tasting Mark again. He kissed her softly, slowly. It made her ache for him.

She felt the bed dip on her right. Mark took Kieran's wrist pulling his hand down to where his had been, replacing it. "Like this…" Mark instructed Kieran. Kieran pressed and stroked, long fingers agonizingly teasing. And Cristina arched into Kieran's touch. She felt the thin strap of her dress slide down her shoulder and Mark pressed his mouth on her exposed skin following after it. Lower. Lower still. Her breath hitched.

Kieran leaned over her then. Caging her with his arms. He wedged a knee between hers and slipped in between her legs. Her dress slid up to her hips with the movement. He hovered above her, staring down at her. Taking her all in. Her heart fluttered in anticipation. His eyes fell to her lips and that was his undoing. He lunged forward aggressively capturing her mouth with his. A pleasant clash of tongue and teeth. His kiss was fierce. Hard. Hungry.

Kieran pressed against her and she felt him, all of him. She moaned into his mouth and he moaned into hers, misreading her. He reached down, pulling loose the strings at his waist and then he reached into his pants. Cristina felt a rush of panic. _Wait._ Her head spun. She pressed her hands against Kieran's bare chest, "Wait. _Stop_."

0 0 0

Cristina opened her eyes and found herself still sitting on the floor of Kieran's room. All three of them still in their triangular formation. They hadn't moved. Her hand flew up to clutch the pendant at her throat and she scrambled to her feet. "You...I….that wasn't me." She shook her head fervently. Shaking away the images in her mind. _It wasn't real It wasn't real it wasn't real._

Mark slowly rose to standing, he held his hands up, "It's only a game, Cristina. Just a faerie trick." Kieran snorted. And suddenly Cristina realized with horror that she wasn't the only one who experienced the...vision or _whatever_ that was. _When Kieran bound everything together..._ embarrassment blossomed on her cheeks and she stumbled backward.

"She is afraid of her own desires." Kieran stated, he dipped his head toward her looking at her through his lashes. A mocking smile ghosted his mouth. "Aren't we all?" Mark asked rhetorically.

"I'm sorry. I-It's late. I should...go." Cristina whirled toward the door and slipped out into the cool and darkened hall. She heard footsteps coming after her but she didn't stop. "Cristina, please. Let me walk you back to your room?" She stopped then at the pleading tone of Mark's voice. She waited until he came up beside her and then she continued until they came to her door. She reached for the knob. But Mark placed his hand over her wrist, "I'm sorry-"

"I'm just...I'm just worried about tomorrow, you know? Going before the council in Idris. The Inquisitor. I'm worried for Kieran." Mark's head snapped up at that, "You're worried about Kieran?" He asked. Cristina nodded, "Yes. I am. I've come to care for Kieran. And you. I'd hate for either of you to be hurt. Or separated…"

"We're Shadowdhunters…"

"I know." Cristina sighed. She ran a hand over her face. She felt so suddenly tired. "I _know._ We are supposed to be stronger than this. I am supposed to be. I…I just needed a distraction." She winced at her words, they sounded cold and harsh in the quiet hall. And she immediately regretted them at the look that passed over Mark's face. She opened her door and stepped into her room. "Look, it's late-"

Mark pushed passed her, stepping into the room as well. He shut the door. "I don't just want a distraction. You mean more than that to me, Cristina." They stood facing each other, Cristina's back was flush against the solid wood door. Mark's eyes were searching, his pupils dilated in the dark to nearly fully encompass the blue and silver. His chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

"But Kieran…" Cristina whispered. Mark stepped closer. The proximity between them felt electrically charged, her pulse was soaring, her mind racing. "Kieran will always be in my heart. But I have room in my heart for more than just Kieran. And I'd hoped that maybe you could to…"

Cristina searched Mark's eyes. The silence growing ominous. Images and memories and desires. Judgements and shame, confusion and denial all rushed through her mind, her emotions in fast succession, matching the pounding rhythm of her heart. She felt dizzy. _I don't know I don't know I don't know._ She chanted internally. _I don't know what I want. I don't if I could. I don't know if I could allow myself…_

"I don't know. I don't know, Mark."

Cristina stepped away from her door. A silent command. She watched with an exhausting array of emotions as Mark turned the handle and slipped out into the hall. The door clicked shut behind him. And she let out a sob. Just one whimper. But the tears poured freely, silently after.

 _To be continued..._


End file.
